


Goodnight Kisses

by Youllletmebeyourman



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: :DDDDDD, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Baker Harry, Drabble Collection, Fluff, High School, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PlsPls, Puppy Love, Read it anyway, Teenagers, can i use emojis as tags, collection, ffs, foetus, i'm not even gonna try, so much narration, this might get sexy, why am i writing this now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youllletmebeyourman/pseuds/Youllletmebeyourman
Summary: Louis and Harry have been best friends forever. They've been affectionate and cuddly forever. Here are ten times they were fluffballs





	1. Forehead

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by freddieismyqueen's video about Harry's obsession with Still The One by Shania Twain.  
> Not beta-ed or britpicked, all typos and grammar mistakes are mine ( do i need britpicking if I live in Scotland?????)

The first time they kiss they're in high school. It's April and Louis is studying for his A-Levels. Harry is – in theory – mostly here for moral support. He's more of a welcome distraction than anything else if you ask Louis. It's around eleven at night and Louis is struggling with an essay that he – obviously – put off until the last minute while Harry plays Smurfs on his brand new iPhone 3G (it's actually a hand-me-down from Gemma but Harry is proud nonetheless). He's lying on his front, feet against the headboard and Louis can hear him hum along to the tune of the game. Jay came around not ten minutes ago to check up on them and to say goodnight ( “I put the kettle on, boo”, she said as she popped her head between the door and the frame.)

Louis has been huffing and sighing for the past ten minutes – and even started softly hitting his head against the desktop – so Harry decides to go to the kitchen and brew a Yorkshire for Louis and a chamomile for himself (Louis insists that the tea helps him relax, Harry personally thinks it'll just make him restless in an hour or so if they don't go to sleep soon...). On his way out he snags a crumpet, one that he made with Jay in the afternoon in an effort to keep Lottie entertained. 

When he enters Louis' bedroom, the two teacups in his hands and the crumpet between his teeth, he sees Louis' body bent awkwardly in his chair, his forehead resting dangerously close to the edge of his desk (and for a second Harry's afraid that he'll slip and snap his neck in half before he realises that the teacups are about to spill over and saliva is rapidly pooling underneath his tongue and getting really close to hitting the bottom of the crumpet). He quickly puts the teacups down on the bedside table, miraculously managing not to spill any of the hot tea in the process, and hurries to Louis' side, his socked feet softly tapping on the grey rug. He gently rubs Louis' back to wake him up as he slips the essay out from under his head. Louis groans and mumbles but gets up anyway, putting his whole weight on Harry and he might not be tall or heavy but Harry is scrawny in comparison and Louis is basically dead weight when he's sleepy.

Harry helps Louis lie down on the bed (his side, because when you've been having sleep-overs for as long as they have, you have a side of the bed, even when it's a single) and tucks him tight, just the way he likes. He quickly goes to the desk and puts Louis' things away (and Louis will probably pout when he realises that Harry tidied up but Harry knows he's actually thankful he won't have to do it himself) and sets up an alarm for 5.30 so that Louis has a bit of time to actually finish his essay before going to class before he takes off his shirt (Louis is a furnace when he's asleep and Harry doesn't want to have to take a shower in the morning when he took one after tea) and slips into bed with Louis, turning off the light before cuddling against Louis. 

The thing with Louis and Harry is that they've always been very close physically. They held hands when going to school in Year 1 (Louis was in Year 3 and took his role of older best friend very seriously), they are always cuddling and snuggling and just touching in general. The one thing that they've never done is kiss. Not on the mouth, or the cheek, or anywhere else. They had never done it before their respective Big Gay Freakouts two years or so ago (they weren't really freakouts, they've always been really open with one another and with their families so it was really no big deal, except for a few weeks of awkwardness when Louis was scared that Harry wouldn't be okay with hugging a gay guy, to which Harry responded with a hug from a gay guy – himself, the gay guy was him “I think I'm gay too, Lou...”) and they agreed to not do it (even though sometimes Harry wants to). 

Today is one of those times, and with the weight of Louis' arm over his waist and Louis' face right here, and the weight of sleep suddenly crashing down on him, Harry slowly leans down (if you can call it leaning down...). Their faces are so close that Harry just has to pucker his lips and stretch his neck abit for his mouth to touch Louis' forehead (it shouldn't feel that glorious but suddenly warmth grows inside Harry's heart and he wonders why he hasn't done it earlier). As his eyes slip shut, he mumbles something that barely ressembles a goodnight and his lips brush Louis' face again.


	2. Contest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that one is so long wow

When he’s 17, Harry enters a baking contest in Doncaster. By now he’s known that he wanted to be a baker for about a year and sent his applications to the Universities of Manchester and Birmingham for their Catering Courses.

He’s been working at the bakery around the corner from his house four days a week, first as a cashier and then slowly getting more responsibilities in the kitchen. He started with baking simple cookies and as time went on, his desserts and sweets became more popular. Now, he’s known for his iced cupcakes and his carrot cake. The same carrot cake that won him a place in the Doncaster Baking Contest of 2011.

Now that he’s standing in front of his station, ideas just running in his head and anxiety heavy on his stomach, he wonders why he took the risk of entering a contest. Then he remembers how happy his family and his friends were when he got to go to the finals, when he got the chance to go against the best bakers in Doncaster, some of them being as old as his nan, and there he is, all gangly and slightly spotty forehead. The theme for today is French Fancies and he’s so glad that he was obsessed with them for about three months last year because he could make any type in his sleep.

He goes around, selecting flavours and colours and marzipan and fondant and food colouring as he keeps an eye on his cake rising in the oven. The timer goes off and he knows he has about an hour left for decoration so he needs to hurry.

In the end, it only takes him fifty-five minutes to complete the cakes and the presentation. The next thirty-five minutes of the judges going around, looking and touching and smelling and tasting again and again without showing any approval –or disapproval– are by far the longest of his life. While they make a decision behind closed doors, the five contestants are allowed to go around the different tables and talk to one another.

Harry tastes every one of the five pastries and suddenly feels down; some of them were so much more original than he was. One of the younger contestants, a 25 year-old girl with the ends of her hair dyed pink, went for a combination of orange blossom water and cloves and it was the most peculiar and flavourful pastries he’s tasted to this day.

It takes the judges fifteen minutes to decide who would win, and who the two runner-ups would be. They announce the second runner-up first and it’s the old lady who is being praised for her classic, timeless baking, “the baking of a gran” one of the judges says. First runner-up is the Clove Girl (Harry has taken to calling her that in his head because with the pressure of competition his whole memory was wiped except for the recipes that constantly run around his head), and they tell her that she would have won first place if she been a bit less heavy-handed with the orange blossom water and a bit more generous with the sugar to counteract the flowery-ness of the pastry.

By that point, Harry is a nervous mess, he feels his face flushing and getting hotter and hotter, so much so that he starts believing that it will explode right then and there before he knows who won. Then, his name is called and somewhere in the crowd he can hear his mother and Gemma shouting and whooping and Louis’ sisters are here, obviously and they’re all screaming and squealing and all kinds of noises that only prepubescent girls manage to produce. There in the chaos, he can hear Louis’ rough voice screaming his name and a smile breaks out on his face.

He can barely hear anything over the rush of blood that pounds in his ears but he still manages to catch the oldest judges saying that his cake reminded him of lemon-meringue pie and thank god it did because that was what he was going for when he added the crumbs of dried meringue inside his fondant at the last minute to counteract the sourness of the lemon.

He finally manages to focus when someone (he thinks it’s Miss South Yorkshire but he couldn’t be too sure) slips a heavy medal over his head and the weight settles on his chest. He smiles wide, showing all of his teeth as they take a picture of him for the South Yorkshire Times and he poses with the check of 500 pounds that he knows he’ll put in his piggy bank to fund his car as soon as he gets his learner’s permit.

If you were to ask him what happened after that, Harry wouldn’t be able to tell you. The only thing he knows is that his mum drives him back home and he takes a shower, his smile still threatening to split his face in half. Suddenly he’s incredibly tired so he settles in for a nap, not thinking to check his mobile phone for any texts.

Which is why, when he wakes up at 8 and the sky is darkening, he checks his phone and sees a few texts from all of his friends congratulating him on his win and three missed calls from Louis. In that moment Harry can’t believe he didn’t get to hug Louis after his win even though he was the one to push him to enter the contest in the first place (“we can’t let all that talent go to waste, Harold”, Harry also suspects that Louis plotted to have Harry feed him all sorts of sweet treats, but that’s okay because it makes Louis happy, and anything that makes Louis happy makes Harry happy, even Aiden, Louis’ ex-boyfriend).

He listens to the voicemail that Louis left while he gets dressed. He listens closely when he tells him that he already talked to their mums and they’re having a bit of a party at Louis’ house to celebrate him and his “absolute awesomeness, seriously Haz, you won, that’s sick!” and changes back into more party-appropriate clothes chucking his sweatshirt onto his bed and slipping a shirt and a blazer on (he also debates wearing a bow-tie but finally decides against it). He musses his hair up and sweeps it to the left before he sprays a bit of extra strong hold hairspray. He quickly goes downstairs, presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek as he slips on his favourite pair of trainers and he’s out the door.

It takes him exactly twelve minutes to walk from his to Louis' house and when he arrives he just walks in (he hasn't knocked on that door in years, it's kind of a second home in a way). He's instantly welcomed by Louis who obviously waiting for him and he is enveloped in a hug that lasts long enough that Fizzy comes and tries to put herself between them (and of course they let her, she's too cute and cuddly not to). From where he's standing, Harry can hear the chatter coming from the living room (it sounds like Louis' whole family is here and a few extra mates, and is this Barb, the owner of the bakery?). 

He walks into the living room and realises that he is still holding Louis' hand and that makes him really happy, but he discards the feeling and concentrates on the moment. 

 

It's nearing midnight when Jay ushers the last of Harry and Louis' friends out the door. It might be a Saturday but the wee ones do need their sleep and they were getting a little too excited. She wraps Harry in one last hug, whispering her congratulations in his ear once again, and then she's off, silent as a mouse so as not to disturb the girls' sleep. 

Now that it's just him and Louis in the hallway, Harry feels the warmth of the evening settle and the calm that usually comes with his best friend's presence returns and covers him like a warm blanket. Louis silently goes to retrieve their jackets, telling him without a word that he will be walking him home. They dress quietly before going out into the crisp spring air.

As they start walking along, Louis takes Harry's hand in his and it's not big, it never has, but the weight of it feels different tonight, as if his body can feel the atmosphere changing between them. They don't need to talk, they never really have, but tonight feels heavier, the air is charged with something more and Harry's not sure if he wants to acknowledge it so he'll leave the decision to Louis because he's better at deciding than Louis, he always has been.

About a block from where they are is Harry's house and they can see that all the lights are out. Harry feels Louis slow next to him and he expects him to stop but he doesn't. He just keeps walking really slowly, gently swing their hands back and forth and it feels like they're small children again, on their way home from the park and they're walking as slowly as possible to stretch their time together before they have to spend the night apart.

Eventually they do end up in front of Harry's house and the automatic light turns on. Louis inches closer to Harry and looks him in the eye. "I'm really proud of you, Haz, you have no idea...".  
Suddenly Harry's throat feels tight and his heart starts hammering in his chest and he doesn't understand why but he decides that it's the adrenaline of the day and the exhaustion and just the pure love that he's received all day from all the important people in his life. 

In the blink of an eye, Louis puts his hand against the side of Harry's jaw and they're nearly the same size now so it feels a lot more intimate than it ever has. Still looking Harry in the eye, Louis closes the distance between them really quickly and plants a short kiss on his lips that echoes in the night air.  
"Goodnight" he mumbles before turning around and walking in the direction of his house, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. In his hurry, he fails to see Harry's smile or hear him giggle softly before entering his house.


	3. France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did research for this ????  
> also I'm French so shameless insert of my country in here because I'm Extra (and we're the best at baking don't even think about arguing it is Fact)

In January 2013, Harry decides to apply for a summer internship in a French Bakery between his second and his third year at the College of Food of Birmingham. He doesn't know where yet because there are so many bakeries in France, he's heard that there can be three or four in the one village and even though he would love to live the quaint life of a French Baker in the Burgundy Countryside he knows that he needs to reach for things bigger than a local bakery if he wants to be the best baker in Yorkshire, if not England. 

His research lasts until the end of March when he receives a phone call. It's a man with a heavy French accent who tells him that he received his CV and that he would like to see him in May for an interview (at that point, Harry is freaking out, but Louis is holding his hand, his smile is getting wider and wider until Harry thinks it will stay stuck like this for the next year, so he breathes and answers that he'll be happy to come whenever needed as long as he gets two weeks to book his ticket.)  
As soon as he hangs up, Louis is on him, crushing him against his chest and Harry is just so happy in that moment because his future is looking so good from here, with his career so promising and Louis holding him and yeah, that might mean that he'll have to live without Louis for three months but they both know they have a lifetime ahead of them, even though they've never really said it.

The thing with them is that some things don't need to be talked about. The day after their first kiss, they didn't talk about it, they just exchanged sweet smiles, and came to an unspoken agreement that there was a thing now. When Anne asked Harry if they were together now, when they had exchanged a few kisses and a grope or two in between, Harry just nodded, not knowing that Louis would have the same conversation with his own mum three days later. 

When Harry got the news that he was accepted at the College of Food in Birmingham, Louis didn't need to tell him that he'd follow him. The only thing he had needed to say was when he was researching flats for them to live in come September was “I can study teaching anywhere, babe...”.

And eventually, when it was time for Louis to drop Harry off in Leeds so he could take the plane for Lyon, France where he would settle for the next three months, they didn't need to say anything. They just smiled at each other, kissed slowly, savouring the last bit of physical contact they'd have for the next three months (Harry didn't know it but Louis had already booked a trip for the end of July because you couldn't really expect him to go without seeing his boy for three months, could you? They had already had a hard time not seeing each other for two weeks when Louis got an animation job in Scotland during the Easter Holidays last year...).

As he starts walking towards security, Harry remembers one thing he wants to tell Louis, so he turns around so fast his hair whips in his face (on the inside he swears, he's been using a new brand of hairspray and it's obviously not doing the job...) and runs after Louis. He taps him on the shoulder and hugs him, his nose burying in his soft hair (Louis' smell is just as comforting now as it was when he was 8 and constantly stealing Louis' clothes - and it's funny how things change because he's pretty sure more than half of his sweatshirts and sweatpants are now in Louis' drawer -), and he's taller than him now so Louis just naturally tucks into him. He pushes him away a bit so he can look at him, presses their foreheads together and breathes out “Goodnight, I love you” before kissing him hard enough that he feels his teeth dig into his upper lip but he's glad for the pain because that means that he'll feel Louis a bit longer now. Louis' hands that ended up awkwardly tucked between their chests pushes against him until Harry decides that he's kissed him enough and their lips separate.  
Harry's eyes are still closed but he hears Louis say “It's 10 in the morning Harry, I'm not going back to sleep for at least ten hours...”  
“I know, that was for all the days I won't get to kiss you goodnight.” With that, he turns on his heels, retrieves his bag and heads for the doors.

Louis just watches him walk and his heart feels light and heavy at the same time because of the sheer amount of love that Harry makes him feel every second of every day.


End file.
